Submitting with love and loving to submit

Monthly Archives: July 2013

So we went to the museum, me and Fiona and the kids. I was running early the night before, but about 15 minutes later than planned in the morning ~ they were all loaded up and ready to go in front of the hotel when i pulled up. And we were off and running.

The museum was a lot of fun. Fiona’s kids are curious and interested in just about everything, which makes doing things with them a real pleasure.

Sometimes, when submissives get together, we have a hard time deciding what to do. Lots of “what do you want? i don’t care, what do you want? no, it doesn’t matter to me, what do you want?” stuff. We didn’t have too much of that ~ maybe because Fiona has experience as a switch? So she was able to make a decision without too much back-and-forth, and that was lovely.

She can be a tad bossy too. Just a tad. So if she tells you she’s picking up the check, just let her. Don’t try to arm wrestle her for it ~ you’ll lose. Well, i did, anyhow. {And don’t apologize again, Fiona, please! It really did crack me up, and i wasn’t even going to mention it, except you already did in the comments, and you know people were wondering how you woman-handled me!}

Anyhow.

Overall, it was a very vanilla event, of course. We were surrounded by children, hers and then mine. But there were a couple of subtleties that we could share. One of the exhibits reminded us of some of ‘Nilla’s stories, and we took some pictures to send her.

Maybe it’ll inspire some new stories with that alien/tentacle twist she does so well.

Then there was this:

Pretty, right? Fiona made it for me. The museum had some hands-on stuff of course, and one of them was the opportunity to do “rubbings” {i think that’s what they call them,} where you put your paper over some raised image and color. It is a bit hard to tell what this one is {no offense, Fiona} but it’s an image of a knight or some such figure, kneeling up with arms crossed in front of him.

Why would she give me that, you ask?

It’s to remind me, she says ~ to remind me to practice sitting. Mmmmmhmmm, yes she did. So i’m hanging it on the wall in my study. Will it improve my compliance with sitting practice? Who knows… but i’ll remember Fiona and smile every time i see it.

i go downstairs to meet them. There’s a blonde woman with a phone in her hand, and i have my phone in my hand, and for a second i think that might be Fiona, and i’m thinking she doesn’t look like her picture, only of course it’s not her, and the real Fiona waves and get out of her car and wraps me in a wonderfully warm hug.

Her children spring out of the car like ~ well, like they’ve been shut up in a moving vehicle all day long. They are delightful. Bright and funny, super polite and yet comfortable in their own skin, if you know what i mean. Really, they steal the show.

Fiona is lovely. Physically, she reminds me of an Irish lass, maybe in a Nora Roberts novel. And it’s clear that her children come by their charm naturally. She’s warm and down to earth and funny ~~

~~ and you would never know she’s the fiona of screaming orgasms and sore nipples, blow jobs and spankings. No, you really wouldn’t.

But you would like Fiona immensely. And her children, who delight me for a good half an hour sharing bits and pieces of their lives, the way kids will when they first meet someone they can tell likes them. i think of ‘Nilla’s kids, and Sir’s grandkids, all of whom are bright and funny and quirky enough to be interesting. i’d love to see that crew together ~ omigosh, it gives me hope for the universe after we’re gone!

Then Fiona sweeps her kids back out of my office, heading off to the hotel. We plan to connect for dinner later.

She actually texts me in a bit and apologizes for her children, saying she feels like they swept in like a tornado. Our Fiona is an apologizer. But they’re a blast, a tornado of interesting thoughts, funny ideas, and sharp perceptions from people just discovering the world.

We meet later, and Sir joins us for dinner. i’m anxious for a minute ~ you know how it is ~ will they like each other? But there’s no need to worry. Sir’s quirkiness and theirs meshes just fine, and i can relax and enjoy.

Much later, when we’re home, Sir says, “So that’s Fiona?” We’d been calling her by her vanilla name all night of course.

“Yes, Sir,” i say.

He nods. “And she blogs? And reads your blog?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And she and her husband are into this too ~ into the lifestyle?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nods. “So, hmmmm, she knows a whole lot more about me right now than I know about her, doesn’t she?”

i can only laugh, “Yes, Sir, i suppose she does. But you know, you could go read her blog and then you’d know a whole lot more about her if you wanted to.” But he just shakes His head.

The nine licks with the wooden spoon ~ nine on each cheek ~ seemed to last forever. i couldn’t make any noise except a whimper because Jon’s cock filled my mouth. After the first few strokes with the spoon, I concentrated harder on the cock, which made it a little easier to bear.

Diana finished before Jon did, and he pulled my mouth off of him. “Up,” he said. “That was nice, but you need to get down to breakfast, no time to waste.” And he shooed me away. As i left, I could hear Diana laugh as she raised her skirt and settled herself on his cock.

i was a little jealous, my pussy hadn’t even been touched and i was wet and hot and longing for release. But i knew that wouldn’t happen for a while.

i moved quickly, not wanting to be in trouble for being late, and practically slid around the corner into the kitchen where we gather for instructions.

The others ~ a small group of submissives and valets, and a Dom-in-charge ~ look up as i get there. My friend Serena is there, and i notice an odd look on her face as she sees me. i glance down, remembering that my nipples and the lips of my pussy have been rouged. Is that what she’s looking at?

i know i’m not the only one here who’s been made-up like this, but, now that i think about it, i’ve only seen it in the evening. It looks particularly garish in the fluorescent lighting of the kitchen. i start to cover myself, instinctively, but the Dom-in-Charge ~ the DIC as we call him ~ looks at me and i stop myself. (Yes, it’s pronounced Dick, what better name could there be for him?}

He is shaking his head as i join the group. “No,” he says. “Not today. You won’t be working with us today. You’re on ‘special duty.'” And he even makes the air quotes sign in the air.

i think, o, shit. That doesn’t sound good.

“Come stand in the corner for now,” he says, gesturing to a corner in the front near him. Obediently i go to the corner and stand as far in as i can, with my head against the wall, hands behind my back.

I can hear them behind me, assigning people to different duties, and then they’re all off to serve breakfast, or sit at some Master’s feet, or do whatever needs to be done. Once they’re gone, i sense someone standing behind me.

“Turn around.”

It’s the DIC, and i turn, to find him very close to me. “Open,” he says, and i spread my legs. He runs a hand between my legs, probing my cunt until i moan. “Wet,” he says with a grin. “Very nice. Apparently, you’re being punished because you forgot that you are to be open and readily available at all times. Right?”

i nod, “Yes, Sir,” and he goes on,”So you’ll spend breakfast going from table to table, checking to see if anyone wants you. Being accessible and ready to obey, of course. Is that clear?”

“i guess so,” i say, even though it’s really not. i mean, they want me to do WHAT?

i must look confused. “Don’t worry,” he says. “All you have to do is approach each table, stop and put your hands behind your back, and wait 20 seconds. Count to 20 slowly. Keep your eyes down unless directed to look up. Then pivot so your back is to the person at the table. Count to 20 again. Then you can go on to the next table. Clear?”

“Yes, yes Sir,” i say. “i can do that.”

So i do. i walk out into the dining room, naked and all rouged up. There are about 10 small round tables, and i see my Master at one of them. i walk toward him first.

He smiles, and i smile back before i remember to lower my eyes. But i stand in front of him counting silently, and do my turn. Once my back is turned, he says, in a low voice, “Bend over please, and put your hands on the floor.”

i do, responding quickly, torn between embarrassment, the desire to please, and a secret hope that there will be an orgasm for me along the way somewhere. He leaves me there for what seems like a long time, then,

“Good girl,” he says. “You may go on.” Disappointed and relieved, i straighten up. He adds, “I want you to bend over at each table. Count to 20, bend over, then count to 20 again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and move to the next table.

It’s an exercise in humiliation. The Dom at the second table practically ignores me, and i’m not sure how i feel about that. When i stand at the end, He says, “Very nice, no thanks,” and that makes me blush and smile a little.

But the next table is my friend Serena’s master. Serena is sitting at his feet watching as he makes me step closer, pulls on my nipples until they are erect. i glance at Serena, and she’s smiling.

When i bend over, he actually get up and touches me, he makes me spread my legs wider, stroking the inside of my thighs, pinching my pussy lips. i’m so wet and hot, i think i’m going to cum immediately, but “Don’t you dare cum,” he says, laughing, and i don’t. “Lovely,” he says, “i’d love to spank your pussy sometime.”

The idea makes me quiver, but he slaps my ass lightly to send me on.

By the time i get to the fifth table, i’ve been stroked and caressed and patted, my nipples pinched, and i would love to be fucked. Love to. But i can see it’s not happening.

Table eight is a FemDom and she’s amused. I’m bent over, almost done, when , “Watch this,” she says to her submissive, Donnie. Then to me, “Don’t move,” as she slips a piece of ice right into my asshole. Just slides it right in there. “You can go as soon as it melts,” she says.

Omg, i can’t help squirming, omg, but fortunately, it’s a small piece of ice, and it melts pretty quickly. By then, i’m so hot i think i’m going to explode, but she just laughs. “Go on, ” she says.

One more table ~ it almost seems easy now ~ and then i head back to my Master. “Come here,” he says, and i do, settling happily on the floor by his feet. He strokes my hair, and i’m content as i can be, considering i’m still really in need of an orgasm.

Just as i really get comfortable, the chimes begin. O, shit. i jump up, hitting my head on the table, trying to figure out where i should land. Master laughs. “Here,” he says, “over my knee.”

So i lay across his lap, ass up, legs open. His hands explore, lightly pinching and probing, penetrating my pussy while i squirm and wriggle. He laughs and stops.

“Here,” he says, “Let’s use this.” Of course i can’t see what he’s picked up, and can’t imagine what it is, even when it lands with a whoomp on my ass. “One!” he says.

My life is all about diapers and a laughing baby, or a crying baby, long conversations with my daughter, and lots of complaints from my cats who don’t much like it that THOSE PEOPLE are still here. Shared meals and exercise routines, dancing with the baby, and going for long walks.

Then there’s work, which is going well, and keeping me busy all by itself. And summer activities ~ places to go and things i don’t want to miss. Farmer’s markets and festivals, walks in the park and playing in sprinklers.

And Sir who is wonderful with all of this ~ good with the baby, and my daughter, and smooth through all the joyful chaos. He enjoys them, and they like Him, and life is wonderfully good.

A visit from Fiona will be icing on the cake of life.

But ~ but ~ “Wait,” you say, “Where’s the kink?”

Kink? O, yeah, i vaguely recall that!! That involves spanking and sucking and ~ o, all kinds of things. Right?

Well. My daughter and granddaughter are going to be gone tonight. i guess in this amazing universe, anything is possible. We’ll see.

i think He has plans for me. i couldn’t be more excited. Maybe there will be some kink happening. {Maybe? Who am i kidding? That’s a sure thing.}

Not that the “get the daughter and grandbaby to leave for a few hours” wasn’t a good idea ~ it was frigging brilliant. But she just started working, and i’m babysitting a bunch, which is wonderful and probably going to be exhausting, so the whole “get them to go somewhere so we can play” plan my be tougher than it sounds. We’ll see.

In the meantime, there have been plumbing issues, and other things, and yet we are all getting along and not being snippy or anything.

Life is really good here, in so many ways, and i’m busy and happy and my granddaughter is a delight and my daughter’s pretty terrific too and work is great and i’ve got half a dozen other irons in the fire, so i have no complaints at all.

And…

There are things that bother me deeply, that break my heart. The verdict in Trayvon’s death, for one, and the legal issues around reproductive justice in so many states, and when i see the way women are sometimes treated and perceived and the way black people are so often perceived and treated, it just hurts my heart.

And i’d like to be beaten. i think that would help. Or tied up or fucked or something. And despite all the joy in my life ~ and there’s lots of it ~ there isn’t a whole lot of kink.

“The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say” ~ J.R.R.Tolkien